I Love You, Salvatore Read online

  He sneered at me. “You’re dreaming if you believe he’ll marry you. We don’t live in their world, and you shouldn’t want to. They’re criminals, mobsters, murderers—”

  “Salvatore isn’t.”

  “That’s a lie and you know it. Do you even know what your lover does?”

  “He works for his father,” I said, not wanting to admit more.

  “And you damn well know what his father does. The Santini sell guns to other criminals. They also terrorize people into paying them money. Only the other day their soldiers walked into a shop two doors down from Mamma’s and beat the man up for not paying on time. They harass everyone on the street except for Mamma, and now I know why: because you’ve been paying Salvatore with figa.”

  “I did not! I love him, and he loves me!

  “Get your head out of the clouds, because the men from his famiglia only love two things: money and violence. You’re risking your life being near him.”

  “I’d rather die young and be with him, than grow old without him.”

  Antonio shook his head. “You women are too full of romance. You see a pretty face and fall over yourselves for them. Well, there are a lot of handsome men out there, Salvatore isn’t the only one.”

  “He is to me.”

  Antonio tapped my head. “You have got nothing in there. You’re too pigheaded, you stupid woman. No, you’re not a woman; you’re a girl who’s thunderstruck by a mobster. There will only be one outcome if you marry Salvatore and that’s death.”

  I lifted my chin. “Of which I accept.”

  “Well, I don’t! You are my sister, I love you. Find another man,” he said, waving his hand at me.

  “I can’t. All I want is Salvatore.”

  “And I want you to grow some sense. You’re not thinking logically.”

  “Love has no logic.”

  “You’re infuriating!” he yelled, his expression frustrated.

  “No, you are! Along with everyone else who’s standing in Salvatore’s and my way. We’ve had to fight to be together, he’s even been hurt because he’d rather be with me than Selena.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His father punched him when he refused to marry Selena.”

  “He hit him?”

  “More than once. They’re trying to force him to do something he doesn’t want.”

  “I didn’t realize it was an arranged marriage.”

  “I told you his famiglia was behind it. Salvatore hates Selena; he would never choose to marry her.”

  Antonio’s expression hardened. He grabbed my arm and yanked me towards his little Fiat.

  “What are you doing?” I yelled, trying to get free.

  “Making things right.” He pushed me towards the car. “Get in.”

  I spun around. “Why?”

  “Because we’re going to see the Santini Don. He has no right to treat you like a second-class citizen. He should be proud to have you as a daughter-in-law. Not only that, you’re pregnant with his grandchild. That should mean more to him than forcing his son to marry that stuck up troia Selena Orsini.”

  Despite how sick I felt, I smiled. “You look fierce, like Papà did when he got angry.”

  “I can’t see that as a bad thing. Papà was an honorable man. I just wish you had chosen someone more like him.”

  “Salvatore is honorable.”

  “We’ll see whether that’s true soon. So, get in the car.”

  I looked down at my tattered house clothes. “Let me change first. I also need to brush my teeth.”

  He nodded. “Hurry, then. I want to deal with this before Mamma and Nonna returns.”

  I shot back inside the house, both happy and terrified at the same time, because I’d wanted to challenge Salvatore’s father for a very long time.

  ***

  Antonio pulled his car up to the Santini gate. It was amazing that in the ten years I’d known Salvatore I’d never visited his home, not even once, while he’d only visited mine for my eleventh birthday party. The thought made me angry. I deserved to be in his life as much he deserved to be in mine. And worse, his parents knew we wanted to be together, and for them to be standing in our way ... it made me feel like trash, someone they didn’t think was worthy of their son. But he wanted me, and I had his baby in my womb, so I was worthy, much more so than Selena Orsini. I still remembered the smug look on her face when she’d been in my mother’s shop. It made my back bristle to even think the woman thought she could take Salvatore from me: to touch him as I touched him, to make love to him… I would kill her if she even tried.

  I got out of the car, my brother doing the same. Antonio walked up to the soldier who was heading our way. All my bravado vanished in the moment I saw the mobster’s gun. He was a heavy-set man in his late thirties, his black suit much too hot for the weather. There was also a slimmer man further back wearing similar clothing, just with his jacket off.

  Antonio stopped in front of the first soldier, not showing any fear, although I knew he was scared. I could see it in the way he was pressing his thumb and forefinger together, something he did when he faced-off bullies twice his size. It was why he’d often come home from school with bloodied noses and black-eyes—because he rarely backed down.

  “I demand to speak to Don Santini,” he said.

  “And why’s that?” the soldier replied.

  As well as being heavy-set, he was harsh-looking. His features combined with his suit made him look like a killer, which he probably was. Even though I knew Salvatore was mafia, in that moment it truly hit me just how dangerous his family was. The soldier could kill us and there would be no repercussions. The mafia was a law unto itself, ruling our island with a vicious hand. It was only over the past decade that the real law was starting to fight back. Even the Pope had made a declaration against them.

  “Salvatore Santini has gotten my sister pregnant,” Antonio told the soldier.

  The soldier’s eyes moved to me, then back to Antonio. “Please wait a moment while I inform the Don of this.”

  Antonio nodded, looking semi-triumphant, as though he’d passed a major hurdle.

  The soldier unclipped a radio from his belt and spoke into it, asking for the Don. He went silent for a few moments, then resumed talking, telling the Don about me. He nodded at intervals, answering some questions, describing what I looked like. After a minute, he lowered the radio. “What is your name?” he asked me.

  “Rosa Aggio.”

  His gaze moved to Antonio, who also told him his name. He passed it onto the Don, then clicked off his radio and indicated to a dark car parked by the gate. “I will drive you to the main house since no unauthorized cars can enter the property. But before that, I will need to search you for weapons.”

  Antonio stepped forward. “You can search me, but not my sister.”

  “Then, she cannot set foot on Santini land.”

  “As the man of my casa, I don’t give you permission to touch her.”

  “I assure you, Signore, I will not do anything inappropriate. I will only do my job. If I get fired it will be with a bullet, not words.”

  “But—”

  “Again, Signore, you must agree if you want to see the Don. He’s unhappy with what his son’s done and wishes to rectify it.”

  “Okay.” Antonio held out his arms. The soldier patted him down then moved to me. I held my arms out too, Antonio watching the man like a hawk. The soldier did his job, not touching anything for too long, treating me in the same manner as Antonio.

  “All clear.” The soldier indicated to the car. “Signorina, please take the front seat, while Signore you must sit in the back.”

  “I want to sit with her,” Antonio said.

  “I do not know you, so for safety reasons, I cannot have you both sitting behind me. Instead, my partner will sit alongside you, Signore.”

  “You just said we’re clear.”

  “Nothing’s ever totally clear. Assassins don’t need weapons to kill.�
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  Antonio made a derisive sound. “You just need to look at me to tell I’m not an assassin.”

  “Assassins come in all shapes and sizes.”

  Antonio grunted, “Okay, I’ll get in the back.” He headed for the car.

  I followed, climbing into the front seat as the heavy-set soldier got behind the wheel. The second soldier slid in next to Antonio. The gate opened, revealing two more soldiers on the other side. They walked past the car as we drove through the gateway, the massive property overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. Miles of green grass spread out before us, with a stunning house sitting on the horizon. It looked like a cream-colored palace where royalty would live, the columns, archways, and lookout tower awe-inspiring.

  The car pulled up in front of a large, ornate door. I got out, my nerves amplifying my nausea. I placed a hand on my stomach, willing myself not to throw up.

  Antonio placed a hand on my back. “Are you all right?” he asked, looking concerned.

  I nodded, knowing I had no choice but to be. Willing myself to get through this, I kicked into gear, heading for the front door. A soldier opened it for me, giving me a polite nod. I stepped inside, awestruck by my surroundings. Marble flooring, a large chandelier, and beautiful artworks made up the entrance, everything a delight to the senses. Antonio stopped next to me, vocalizing his awe with a loud “Buon Dio.”

  The sound of high heels clacking against the floor caught my attention. I looked towards the archway, seeing Salvatore’s mother appear through the opening. Her eyes moved from me to Antonio, her face stiff. She was as beautiful as ever, with her high cheekbones, violet eyes, long wavy brown hair, and stunning figure. I elbowed Antonio, who was openly gaping at her.

  “Rosa,” she said, a touch of anger coloring her tone. “Please follow me, along with your brother.”

  Antonio and I trailed her, heading into an impressive lounge. It was filled with expensive furniture, a massive TV, and some of Salvatore’s siblings, Brando amongst them. Brando stopped watching the movie and looked over his shoulder at me, his expression surprised. The youngest of the kids, a small boy with violet eyes, yelled, “Who’s that?” Brando muttered, “Trouble for Salvatore.”

  I continued into a passage, stopping outside a door. Salvatore’s mother knocked on it. “The Aggios are here.”

  “Enter,” a deep voice answered.

  Salvatore’s mother opened the door for us. I stepped inside, seeing Salvatore seated in front of a large wooden desk, looking like he’d been yelled at continuously, his face forlorn. Guilt hit me, making me realize I should’ve rung and warned him before coming.

  The man behind the desk pushed to his feet.

  Don Santini.

  Except for his towering physique and stunning blue eyes, he didn’t look like Salvatore. Instead, Salvatore resembled his mother, who was closing the door behind us.

  The Don rounded the desk, his fierce stare directed at Antonio. Although his face was intensely attractive, it also held an ugliness; evident in the cruel tilt of his lips and the coldness of his eyes. Without a doubt, the man had seen death, and was probably the cause of most of it.

  “You claim that my son has gotten your sister pregnant?” he asked Antonio.

  Antonio nodded, his expression terrified. The Don towered over him, making him look like a child in comparison.

  “And what do you expect me to do about it?” the Don asked.

  Antonio cleared his throat. “Salvatore must marry my sister before she starts showing,” he said, his voice shaky.

  “He is promised to another.”

  Salvatore spoke up. “Father—”

  “Silenzio!” the Don yelled, his eyes shooting to his son.

  Salvatore’s jaw clenched. He pushed to his feet and walked past his father, stopping next to me. He placed an arm around my shoulders. “She’s carrying my child, your grandchild. I must marry her, not Selena.”

  “How do you know for sure it’s your baby?” the Don asked.

  “I never used protection with her.”

  “She could’ve been with another man.”

  Salvatore’s back straightened. “She has not! We’ve been together romantically since the age of sixteen. I’ve known her since I was ten, and will marry her at twenty, and I dare you to stop me.”

  The Don jerked back as though his son had slapped him, shock written across his face. He probably couldn’t believe his son was talking to him like this—not to the great Santini Don who was renowned throughout the island.

  The shock quickly morphed into anger. “You have no right to speak to me in such a disrespectful manner, especially after you got this woman pregnant out of wedlock.”

  Salvatore tilted his chin up. “I’m just taking a leaf out of your book, but unlike you, I’m going to marry the woman I got pregnant.” Salvatore had mentioned his father had impregnated a prostitute, his half-brother only a year younger than him.

  The Don’s eyes widened. “How dare you?!”

  “Easy. I should’ve done this a long time ago, but I allowed you and Mamma to stop me from being a man and standing up for Rosa. She’s my woman and I won’t allow you to stop me from marrying her.”

  “You must marry Selena; it’s your duty.”

  “My duty is to marry the woman who’s carrying my child.”

  “Your duty is to this famiglia, not to some—”

  “Don’t say it!” Salvatore yelled.

  The Don’s glare shifted to me. “Your child will be tested after its birth, and if it’s not my son’s,” he looked back at Salvatore, “you know the outcome.”

  Salvatore let go of me and stepped forward. “Are you threatening her?” he said, his voice a low growl.

  The Don angled his face closer to his son’s. “I’m stating a fact. If the child isn’t yours, the consequences will be great.”

  “It is mine!”

  “And if it’s not, the marriage will be annulled.”

  Salvatore jolted as though his father’s words had sent an electric current through him. “You’re permitting me to marry Rosa?” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Sì. It will happen before she starts showing.” His eyes moved to his wife. “You will arrange this. Make it grande and have all the heads of the families attend. I want the wedding to be a statement and you’ll make it so.”

  Salvatore’s mother frowned. “But what about the Orsini? They will be furious.”

  “They will bow down to my wishes or suffer the consequences.”

  She nodded.

  Salvatore cut in, “You won’t regret this, Father.”

  “I already do,” the Don’s gaze moved to me, “so you, Signorina, better change my mind, because you just signed your life to my famiglia—for better or for worse.”

  2014

  Crying surrounded me, sorrow permeating everything. It sounded like Salvatore’s youngest sister, Bella. I could see her in my mind’s eye. She was mourning me, the tears running down her perfect face. Like the meaning of her name, Bella was a beautiful woman, so beautiful that she outshone any woman who walked in her presence. She could’ve been a model or an actress if she wasn’t intensely shy. It wasn’t a normal shyness, it was debilitating to the point of her closeting herself away from the world. Even before her accident, which had stolen her ability to walk, her shyness had been there. It had been made worse by her mother continuously thrusting men at her, who Bella had no interest in. All Bella had wanted was to spend time with her best friend Paola, who was married to one of her brothers. Then the car accident had happened, killing Paola. After that Bella had fallen into a depression, the woman refusing to talk to anyone ... until she had broken down in front of me, screaming out her pain. As I loved Salvatore with all my heart and soul, she had loved Paola. I hadn’t known Bella was a lesbian until the day I’d walked into her room, finding her holding a blade to her wrist, ready to slash it. I’d dashed over, grabbing her hand to stop her. She’d screamed at me to let her do it, that she couldn’t li
ve without Paola. I had forced the blade out of her hand and hugged her, the woman breaking down in my arms. She’d babbled about Paola, telling me how much she’d loved her best friend, but had never told her. Instead, she’d watched the woman she loved marry one of her brothers, then die in her arms after a truck had driven into their car.

  “I didn’t want to love her,” Bella had sobbed. “Every time I saw Paola with Luciano it killed me, but I never said anything because I knew she loved him as intensely as I loved her.” She’d pulled back from me, her expression tormented. “Why did God make me like this? I’m not a bad person; I don’t deserve to be alone.” She continued talking, telling me how she’d been attracted to females since she was eleven, but was too afraid to tell anyone since her mother was homophobic.

  “Paola never knew how much she meant to me,” she wept. “She was my best friend since I was five, yet I couldn’t ever be with her like Luciano could—all because I’m female. Why is God so cruel? I loved her so much, yet I couldn’t even kiss her. It killed me seeing Luciano kiss her. It was like a dagger to my heart. I will never love anyone like that again.”

  I had wrapped my arms around Bella, thinking I had everything to be grateful for, that my life was incredibly blessed in comparison to the poor woman weeping in my arms. I had married the man I loved, while Bella had lost the woman she loved, someone who hadn’t even known the depths of Bella’s feelings for her.

  But now, as I heard Bella cry in what I assumed was the bomb shelter, I was putting Salvatore in his sister’s position. He would lose me as Bella had lost Paola. I just prayed to God Salvatore pulled through. I wanted him to live a full life—even if it was without me, and although the thought hurt beyond words, I prayed he found love again, because I couldn’t bear him to be unhappy. I didn’t want him to lose his dazzling smile. It lit up his whole face, extending to his eyes and everyone around him. My mind went to the day he smiled the widest: our wedding day. It had been sixteen years ago…

  1998

  We exchanged more than vows that day

  Our souls forever united